Her weathered cheeks spoke more of her age than her eyes could ever whisper. There was an unwavering strength in those sharp-witted eyes, held between the kind of laughter that sneaks out of inside jokes and the sorrow that only a love now gone leaves behind.
She twiddles the buttons on her dress, a habit picked up and polished over the years. They’ve been with her for as long as she could remember. Grey-blue like warm rain on summer days, like reading beneath the shadows of clouds. Like walking with hands in pockets, mind weighed down with so much thought, it’s a wonder you can move at all.
Her fingers clamber over the ridges of embroidery, so delicate and tough, like a comrade who knows when to finish your sentences and when to be the foundation upon where your home resides.
They are a part of her, and they hold her story – a life filled with colorful imaginations and wondrous scents, whispered love and undying laughter that will never, ever be forgotten.
Inspired by the writing prompt from Ink & Grace Editing